


Crown of Thorns

by domo (aroceu)



Category: Super Junior
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-19
Updated: 2010-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroceu/pseuds/domo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>if i see you loving me, do you let me see?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crown of Thorns

_if you see something breathing, do you let it breathe?_  
_if you see something dying, do you let it die?_  
_if you see a heart breaking, do you let it break?_

_if you see something healing, do you let it heal?_  
_if you see something hurting, do you let it hurt?_  
_if you see a fire burning, do you let it burn?_

_if you see something dancing, do you let it dance?  
if you see something rotting, do you let it rot?  
if i see you loving me, do you let me see?_

 

* * *

 

“Sungmin, this is Youngwoon,” the teacher introduces. “He will be your mentee.”

“Hello, Sungmin-sshi,” Youngwoon greets Sungmin with a bow and a shy smile. He looks up at Sungmin, his gaze shining in interest and innocence.

Sungmin looks down at Youngwoon, and thinks _what ugly hair, what weak eyes, what foolish boy_.

“Hello Youngwoon,” Sungmin replies, voice cold, and the teacher has to remind Sungmin to add ‘ _hyung_ ’ to his words.

 

* * *

 

“I always thought that plants were like people,” Youngwoon says as they walk around the school, into the gardens. “Sometimes we forget that plants are just as alive as humans and animals.”

“Mm.” Sungmin doesn’t say anything, but instead allows his gaze to drift off to the overcast sky above them. It is grey, unfeeling, cloudy, and Sungmin slightly feels scared of it. Then he remembers that it is only the sky, and what can the sky do to him?

“I like plants,” Youngwoon says softly, cupping the leaf of a flower underneath his palm. He looks over to Sungmin. “Do you like plants?”

“Mm,” Sungmin repeats, and tries to ignore those wide, dark eyes staring into him, opening him up.

 

* * *

 

“Try to avoid sucking up to the teachers. They know if you are,” Sungmin instructs Youngwoon as they pass a nearby classroom. “You’re starting classes next week, right? That’s one of the first things you need to know. The teachers here are harsh.”

Youngwoon nods understandingly and glances into the class. Then he contentedly returns to walking ahead with Sungmin, and they continue on in silence.

Sungmin glances to Youngwoon. “You don’t really need a mentor, do you?”

“Of course I do.” Youngwoon gives Sungmin a smile that makes Sungmin wonder if it’s even real. “It’s my first time at this school. How could I possibly get around without someone telling me how to?”

“But you’re a year older than me. Surely you could figure it out,” Sungmin replies, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Youngwoon chuckles. “If you don’t want to mentor me Sungmin, that’s fine. We can always tell the teacher.”

Sungmin turns red in embarrassment and turns his head away from him. “Don’t bother with it,” he manages to mutter.

 

* * *

 

“What do you like most about this school?” Youngwoon asks Sungmin while they pass the gym. Noises can be heard inside, loud screams and shrieks, but Youngwoon’s focus is only on Sungmin.

Sungmin shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. The classes, the schoolwork?”

Youngwoon laughs full out, and Sungmin just stares, awed. “Really? You like the work? That’s a first.”

Sungmin shrugs again. “I’m not very…” He searches for the right word. “Social. I don’t have many friends.”

“So why are you doing the mentoring program?” Youngwoon asks interestedly.

“Because it’ll look good on my resume.”

“Oh.” Youngwoon glimpses off again. Then he casts his wondering eyes back onto Sungmin.

“What do you dislike most about this school?”

“Everyone.”

 

* * *

 

At lunch, Sungmin introduces Youngwoon to a few people who calls Sungmin their ‘friend’, but Youngwoon can see that there is a bitter distaste towards them as he watches while they converse. When they walk away, Youngwoon turns to Sungmin.

“Why?” he questions.

Sungmin looks at Youngwoon funnily. “Why what?”

“Why do you look at them like that?” Youngwoon attempts to mimic Sungmin’s old face, which causes Sungmin to snort. “Like you don’t want to be associated with them.”

“Because.” Sungmin shrugs, his trademark move along with his cold, unfeeling eyes. “I know they don’t care about me. They consider me only for company, but they don’t care.”

“How do you know that?” Youngwoon asks.

“Because no one cares about me.”

 

* * *

 

As they talk and meet others, Youngwoon sees that every smile Sungmin gives is laden with a thin line of falsity and hurt. He sees the sparkle in Sungmin’s eyes is the hint of a tear that he won’t let fall, that all his words speak the opposite of their cheery tone. He sees that Sungmin is nothing but a broken clock, stopped and not knowing how to go on.

He sees Sungmin break and scatter with every move he makes, and he sees that Sungmin knows this, and he allows himself to shatter with every passing moment.

 

* * *

 

“What’s this?” Youngwoon asks when they reach a row of flowers outside of the music classroom. All the flowers are wilted, brown and worn, like old sheets of paper crumpled and thrown away. Sungmin shrugs, as always, though his heart aches at the sight.

“They died last winter. No one really bothered to put them back up,” he replies, voice steady and unfeeling.

Youngwoon has tears leaking in his eyes, and Sungmin almost feels empathy, but brushes it away with thoughts of, _what a silly, weak fool_. “These need to be replanted,” he states, murmuring to himself. “These need to be reborn.”

Sungmin turns away from him, and pretends he doesn’t care.

 

* * *

 

Youngwoon asks him why he likes pink, Sungmin responds because it is a deceiving color, and he doesn’t say that he himself is a deceiving person. Youngwoon asks him why he constantly changes his hair, and Sungmin replies because it is all the same to him no matter what style it is in, and he doesn’t say that he himself is constant no matter how he acts. Youngwoon asks him why he plays music, and Sungmin says it is because it is how he finds home, and he doesn’t say that he himself just wants to run away from life.

And Sungmin pretends he doesn’t care about Youngwoon, he pretends that he doesn’t see the way the eyes stare up at him with such glimmering innocence, with true wandering and words that speak of forgiveness, and he pretends that Youngwoon doesn’t care.

 

* * *

 

It is when Youngwoon hands him a flower, that is small and round and perfect, when he kisses Sungmin. Sungmin notes that Youngwoon tastes faintly of lavender and violets and carnations, and wants to linger a little longer when Youngwoon finally pulls away. There is a tint on Youngwoon’s face as pink as roses, and Sungmin stares at the other boy.

“Why… Why did you do that?” Sungmin asks Youngwoon, mind swimming with Youngwoon and words and music and the sweetest smells.

Youngwoon shrugs, not unlike Sungmin, and smiles like a daisy. “Because I felt like you needed it. You need someone, something. Anything to care about you.”

Sungmin stares at Youngwoon, and breaks.

 

* * *

 

Youngwoon smiles prettily that makes Sungmin almost jealous, but he knows he doesn’t deserve such pretty smile. So he takes the smile and keeps it in his heart and hopes that Youngwoon will continue to smile. But not at him.

They continue to kiss, and Sungmin thinks it is because Youngwoon is here for comfort. He does not think Youngwoon will be here forever, but he takes what he can, and he knows he is greedy, selfish, but he doesn’t care. He cherishes every moment he has with Youngwoon, and tells himself, _this is all for me, not for him or us, but for me_.

And Youngwoon continues giving, and Sungmin does not know if Youngwoon knows what a bastard Sungmin is, but Sungmin doesn’t care and continues taking, wanting more.

 

* * *

 

The garden outside of the music room blooms and becomes beautiful over time. Youngwoon is no longer Sungmin’s mentee, but perhaps a mentor of sorts but Sungmin does not listen to him. He merely basks in the mere presence of Youngwoon, and does not think about anything else.

“This is nice,” Youngwoon states simply as he looks at the flowers while holding Sungmin’s hand. “See? Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is,” Sungmin agrees with a tiny nod, his ears hanging on every word Youngwoon says.

“It’s like us. Perfect. Beautiful.” Youngwoon gazes at the flowers, the colors reflecting in his dark, full eyes. “It’s going to be here forever. It’s never going to fall away. Forever. Just like us.”

At these words, fear overcomes Sungmin, but he says nothing. He stares at the flowers, and they mock his heart inside.

 

* * *

 

Flames burn in Sungmin’s eyes, as he watches Youngwoon stare and cry at the flowers burning in front of his eyes. They spark like flames, and Sungmin thinks their ruin is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“Why?” Youngwoon is crying in a voice that Sungmin cannot stand. “Who did this? Why would anyone want to destroy the flowers? These flowers!”

He sobs and beats the ground with his open calluses, and Sungmin continues watching. Sungmin ignores the tears pouring down Youngwoon’s face, not nearly enough to drown out the fire. Sungmin ignores the heart breaking inside of him, inside of Youngwoon. He ignores that the greatest pain he feels is because Youngwoon wants them to last forever, like the flowers were supposed to be, and the only thing Sungmin can do is destroy them.

 

* * *

 

When they break up, Sungmin feels numb because he’s already experienced the greatest pain and now he can’t feel anything anymore. He feels numb to the pained words echoing in Kangin’s melodious voice, the hurt refracting in his eyes, every moment between them falling and breaking onto the hard, cold ground beneath their feet. He feels dismantled, as if he has been this way his whole life.

So he goes on. He goes on with life, pretending that nothing has changed him, that nothing has ever healed him. He pretends that he has always been like this, he has always been broken, and that he has always been a wilted flower. He pretends that nothing has ever cared for him, nothing has ever loved him, and that the only thing that has ever seen him for who he truly is, has crumbled away.


End file.
